Way back in August, Whitney convinced me that running a half marathon relay in November would be a good idea. After all, it was split in such a way that she would be running eight miles, and I only had to run five. Sounds easy.

We got to San Antonio on Saturday, with the race on Sunday. After a nice lunch, we headed to the expo in the Alamodome. The Rock ‘n’ Roll series is a very large race series, so they were expecting at least 20,000 runners. The expo was kind of insane, taking up the entire Alamodome floor. We probably spent two or three hours just wondering around looking at all of the stuff.

After the mile walk back to our hotel, we just kind of collapsed for a couple hours. We were waiting for Whitney’s friends to get into town and make it through the expo. One of them was running the half marathon and one was running the full. Neither sounded like fun to me.

We all got together for a nice dinner. I tried to eat fairly light food, because running on a stomach full of last night’s greasiness never works out well for me. We headed back to the hotel and turned in for an early night.

The alarm went off bright and early at 5:00 a.m. The weather was cool and misty. The humidity was high, but the temperature made up for it. All in all, it was a perfect morning for a run.

We found the corral Whitney and her friend were in. There were people everywhere. It’s hard to imagine 20,000 people until you’ve experienced it. We waited for a port-o-potty for a good twenty minutes (and there was a huge line of them). It was disgusting, and I’m glad Whitney told me to bring Kleenex. Ew.

After that, I left Whitney and went to the relay transition point at mile eight. We got there in time to see the half marathon and marathon leaders run by. They were running around five minute miles and looking like they were out for an easy jog. Must be nice.

I knew Whitney was going to be running faster than her usual pace, but she still surprised me when she entered transition. She was flying! I took the drum stick (our relay baton) and headed out. The amount of other people on the course (the “traffic”) was huge. I was constantly running in a mob.

My first mile, when I was still hyped up on adrenaline and excitement, was my fastest ever at around 12:39. I was feeling good. Starting into the second mile I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the pace, not if I didn’t want to die of a heart attack.

By now, the sun had burned off the mist, and the temperature was rapidly climbing. It wasn’t so bad in the downtown area, where the buildings blocked most of the sun, but once we got out into the residential areas, the heat was brutal.

At one point, a woman sideswiped my arm. I didn’t think anything of it and kept running. Time tends to stretch when I’m running, and a minute takes forever, but I run until my interval timer in RunKeeper tells me it’s time for a walk break. This interval seemed interminable.

I finally broke down and walked. I checked on RunKeeper to see how long I had left in the interval, only to find that the woman who brushed against me had managed to shut down RunKeeper. I must have left the screen on in my haste to get started, and she hit the screen perfectly to turn RunKeeper off. I restarted it and kept on.

By mile four, I was paying for my earlier exuberance. The sun was fierce and the people around me, most of whom were running the whole half marathon, were slowing down. I had a permanent side stitch from running too hard early in the race.

As we closed in on the Alamodome, I started to perk up. This misery was almost over. In one final attempt to break us, there was a steep hill just before the mile 13 marker (mile 5 for me). I tried to run it, but only made it halfway. I was spent.

The last tenth of a mile was a straight flat run to the finish. I was tired, but no way was I not going to run across the line. I started looking for Whitney and Dustin in the massive crowd lining the street. By a stroke of luck, I saw them both, and that gave me the extra motivation I needed to sprint to the finish.

Crossing the finish line was amazing, mostly because it meant I didn’t have to run anymore. Staffers were handing out medals and wet towels. The temperature had climbed into the 80s, and I was drenched in sweat, so a cool towel felt heavenly. There was a crush of people trying to exit the finish chute. I managed to get a drink and some food. The crowd spit me out, and I met up with Dustin and Whitney.

The walk back to the hotel wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I got to shower and clean up thanks to a late checkout. I put my medal on over my normal clothes. I worked hard for that medal, and I was wearing it for as long as possible.

We had burgers and fries for lunch. Nothing had ever tasted better. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by the Alamo and took pictures with our race medals:

Overall, I had a PR for the mile and the 5k. My pace, 14:48, was a PR for a five mile run, and one of my fastest for any distance.

The See Jane Run 5k was supposed to be my first 5k. It didn’t quite work that way.

A huge thunderstorm blew through early race morning, complete with heavy rain and lightning. Thirteen minutes before the half marathon was supposed to start, the race was cancelled. The 5k was also cancelled, even though it was an hour and a half before it was scheduled to start. There were no refunds and the race was not rescheduled.

We were told we could pick up our champagne glass and chocolate at a downtown hotel. The pickup was madness, as hundreds of women all converged on a bar attached to the hotel. It must have been all they could pull together at the last minute. We had champagne and chocolate to celebrate our non-race. It was kind of depressing, especially because the rain had stopped, and it had turned into a nice day.

Overall, See Jane Run can’t be held responsible for the weather. However, there were a few other issues, including a lost pallet of race stuff. That wasn’t their fault, but the way they handled it, encouraging people to contact a specific person at FedEx by listing both his phone number and email address, seemed kind of sheisty.

I started running in June, and completed Couch to 5k a few weeks ago. Since the end of Couch to 5k was right before the Zilker Relays, Whitney tried to talk me into joining a team with her and two other women. After checking and double-checking that the team didn’t actually want to win, I agreed.

It was only after I agreed that I realized the race started at 6:00 P.M. Now, Austin is known for many things, not the least of which is the sizzling summer heat. It’s been 100+ degrees for over eighty days this summer. At 6:00 P.M., the sun hasn’t set, and the temperature hasn’t dropped out of the triple digits. All of my running up to this point had been done in the miserable-enough eighty degree pre-dawn hours.

For weeks Whitney assured me that the temperature would come down. Week after week of 100+ degree heat didn’t dissuade her. And, sure enough, Monday of race week, the forecast for Friday (race day) was 93. It was a miracle. However, the miracle didn’t last. All week the forecast kept climbing, until it culminated in a race day temperature of 102. One. Hundred. Two.

To add insult to injury, while I was running my Thursday morning practice run, I got sick halfway through. I barely ran two miles before I had to give it up. I tried going to work, but went home defeated after half a day. I had a stomach bug I couldn’t shake. I slept for five hours Thursday afternoon and woke up still sick. That did not bode well.

Friday, I woke up feeling better, but only slightly. I munched on crackers all day and ate the lightest food possible. My stomach behaved, but it was still up in the air if I was going to be able to run.

After getting ready at a teammate’s house, I ate half an energy bar and sipped water. I felt okay, but not great. I was determined to run unless I wouldn’t be able to finish, so I kept a close watch on my body. I was running the third leg of the race, so the temperature was supposed to drop to a downright chilly 97 or so by the time I had to start. My stomach thanked the gods that I wasn’t going to have to run in the sun and hottest heat.

While I was waiting my turn, I got to watch the other teams compete. Let me tell you, the Zilker Relays are fierce. The first person to come in did it in under twelve minutes. Two and a half miles, under twelve minutes. My mind boggled. I was hoping to run it in forty minutes or less, especially with the sickness and heat. The fastest team could almost finish the entire race in the time it took me to run my leg, never mind the time my teammates would take.

Around the fifty minute mark, I saw Whitney approaching. She was the second leg of the race, and that meant it was showtime for me. We high-fived, and I was off. I had my phone tracking my run, playing music, and giving me interval information. Or so I thought.

I started faster than I should have, but I was hyped up on adrenaline. What no one mentioned was the fact that after about a quarter mile, the course took a vertical turn. The hill was steep and long. I kept at it, waiting for my five minute interval to finish so I could walk for a minute. I was wheezing, but stubbornness kept me going.

Finally, close to the top, I couldn’t take it any more and decided to admit defeat and walk. I had given myself a side stitch, the first one I’ve gotten since I started running. My interval timer app failed me; there was never an indication to walk. I didn’t take the time to fix it, so I walk/ran the rest of the race based on how I felt rather than a timer.

My first mile was fast, faster than my training, but it took a toll. I couldn’t shake the stitch in my side. Another hill, not as steep, but just as long, slowed me down. I fought through the second mile. Dustin and Whitney were cheering at about the two mile mark. I got a brief burst of energy, but I still had to run the final half mile.

I saw the fourth member of our team waiting for me at the finish line. All I had to do was make it to her, and then it would be over. It was the longest shortest distance ever. I crossed the line and someone removed the timing chip from my shoe. I forgot to stop my tracking app, so I knew my time was around thirty-eight minutes, under my forty minute goal, but I didn’t know exactly what it was.

I walked around and tried to catch my breath and get rid of the stitch in my side. By the time our fourth member finished, I was feeling better. There was an after party with free tacos and beer. I made a plate of tacos, then promptly thought better of it. I ended up carrying them home, because I couldn’t trust my stomach. No go on the beer, either.

I drank a couple bottles of water and Nuun (an electrolyte replacement drink) and called it good. When I got home, I ate a Nutrigrain bar, showered, and collapsed into bed.

Overall, I wouldn’t recommend it as a first race. It was short, which was nice, but it was hotter than hell and there were some very elite athletes. Everyone was super nice, so that was amazing, but our team of fast, moderate, moderate, and slow runners came in close to last.

My official time? 36:53.6. Booyah!*

*Yes, I’m aware that’s still slow as hell.